


Fashion Queen

by Torrinidae



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Magic mishap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 04:09:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4651740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torrinidae/pseuds/Torrinidae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian Pavus in always studying experimental magic, but one night his magic goes awry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fashion Queen

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd quick write I had sitting on my computer.

He really should access his mental state before conducting magical research. This is what he tells himself after he creates an explosive cloud of dust, after the fade ripples around him, after he stands in his alcove, sneezing and wheezing to clear his lungs.

Dorian is a glutton for his own punishment. He over works himself, stays up all night buried in books, forgets to eat, and gets horribly distracted one way or another. And for that he pays dearly when he tries to perform experimental magic.

Given his research on time magic, he had begun to look for a counter magic. He had the theory that he could create a spell that disenchants anything affected with time magic. Dorian knew he had aided in the creation of a monster, now it was his job to keep it at bay. He burned up what he could of the research notes, imprisoned Alexius, and already had Mae go into Alexius estate and steal what was left, the evidence of their study. He would keep the bare minimum under lock and key and let the rest disappear for good.

He slaved away over the new theory for a solid thirty hours, and he was not really good at thinking that through. Then again, it does become hard to think through anything after pulling an all-nighter.

As soon as the smoke and dust cleared away he inspected his limbs. Good, he still had those, all be it dirtied up. His nails looked horrible. When the ringing in his ears finally stopped, he heard only crickets and wind. ‘Ah good, I did not disturb anyone’s sleep. Thank the Maker for small blessings.’ He returned to inspecting himself.

He looked fine. He ran his fingers through his hair, still intact, and pressed it back into place with muscle memory. He sighed and sat back down in his chair. Well, the magic failed, but on the bright side, the worst it did was send the candle smoke and dust everywhere. After several attempts to clear his nose, Dorian realized it may be best to get some fresh air.

He walked down the stairs toward the main hall to find very few people around. Varric had vacated the table and most of the dignitaries who had come to harass the inquisitor had left for the guest quarters. However, as soon as he stepped toward the entry doors, he bumped into Cole. “Oh, Cole, good errr,” Dorian peered up into the starlit windows, “evening?”

“Your hair.” is all Cole could muster. Dorian froze up.

“Oh no, it’s still on my head,” Dorian attempted to contain the panic in his voice.

“Yes. But it’s blue. That shade makes Krem think of home, the color of his father’s apron. I think he would like it.” Dorian’s hand moved to his hair. It was too short to assess the color without a mirror, but Cole never lied.  Did he? Before Dorian could inquire anymore, the two heard a loud scream come from behind Dorian. The man jumped to find inquisitor Cadash standing behind him, her hands on her cheeks.

“A-ah, good evening, I’m alright, I swear. No need to panic, the magical explosion did nothing more than ruin my hair, it seems.” He hoped that he was correct, but he had no other help on the matter because Cole vanished with the wind.

“IT’S BEAUTIFUL.” Cadash let out, jumping up to pull Dorian down by his shoulders. “HAIR TAX!” Dorian let out a yelp of confusion and tried to object before the Herald was running her hands through his hair. “Can you do my hair like this, please? It looks so lovely and pretty.” She was staring at him with golden eyes full of wonder, cutting off every one of Dorian’s protests, “Oh my stone, have you shown Bull yet?  Oh I think he will love it, even if it’s not pink! Have you tried pink yet? Oh that would be to die for!”

“Please, Torrin, that’s enough.” Dorian pulled away and grumbles, once again attempting to put his hair back into its proper place. “It was an accident, and it certainly could have been a dangerous one. Besides, it was a magical mishap, would a magic that changes hair color even work on a dwarf?” Dorian immediately regretted his words because Torrin’s look of happiness turned. She looked like she was about to cry. “L-look, I have to go fix this. We can talk in the morning about trying it on you.” Torrin let out a gasp of wonder.

“Really?”

Dorian let out a helpless groan. “Eh, yes. Really. Good night Torrin.” And with that he turned, slumping off to the battlements, an excited mabari-like inquisitor behind him waving him off with intense enthusiasm.

“Good night, Dorian! See you in the morning!” She won’t let him forget this. How did this woman even become the savior of Thedas? How she managed to become the leader of the Inquisition and the one to take down Corypheus, Dorian will never quite understand.

Dorian stayed to the shadows, avoiding people leaving the tavern. The last thing he needed was for Varric or Bull to find him in this state. He just wanted to figure out what happened and fix his mistake. The only mirror in Skyhold was located in his room that he shared with Bull. He would take a look, grab some of his supplies and return to his alcove. He was happy to find his room dark, meaning Bull was still in the tavern, and Dorian had the perfect opportunity to dive in and dive out.

Dorian closed the door behind him quietly and tiptoed toward his vanity. Even if the bed was vacant, he was not about to alert to anyone on the upper floor of the tavern that he was in the room. Lest anyone inform Bull. He quietly lit a candle left on the vanity and gazed into the mirror.

Good news: his hair was still all in one piece. There were no frazzled ends or patches. The bad news was that it was a definite shade of blue. And that wasn’t the end of the bad news. It was not only the hair on the top of his head; his brows, mustache, and trimmed beard were all the same shade of Lazurite blue. He paused, trying to reign in the panic.

‘It could be worse. Maybe it would look good if it wasn’t ALL blue, but I can fix this. I can reverse it. At least I didn’t go bald,’ Dorian repeated these thoughts, letting them spin in his head had he gathered up a cloak and some potions. He blew out the candle as soon as he had his supplies in a pouch and slipped the cloak over himself.

Dorian was crossing the room as he heard footsteps and laughter coming from a familiar set of vocal cords. The panic came rushing back as Dorian made a bolt for the other door. But before he could even get his hand on the doorknob, Bull swung the tavern door open.

“What the- Hey! Who are you?” Bull had only seen a shadow of a cloak and jumped into action. Dorian let the panic wash over, that and sleep deprivation clouding his judgement, as he shoved the door open and made a getaway. No, he was not about to reveal to Iron Bull his disarray of hair. He was not about to be subject to more harassment over this failed spell. He would make a clean get away, retreat to the cellar of the castle and fix his mess.

Except, he really didn’t think through how fast Iron Bull was. He really should have remembered that the barrel chested partner of his could run him over in a second. But again, thinking doesn’t work well after staying up all night studying, as he had already proven that night.

Dorian was about 5 steps away from the stairs before he was slammed to the ground, the pouch falling to the way side, his vision completely covered in dark fabric, and a heavy weight on top of him.

“Looks like I caught a thief,” Iron Bull chuckled, “Even in Skyhold, huh? Did you really want to be tried up the Inquisitor for your crimes?” Dorian let out a groan, frustrated in how much joy Iron Bull had in his voice. He did not have the energy to deal with this shit tonight. Bull froze at the sound and leaned over to pull the cloak back. It was rather dark, but Bull could see the silhouette of Dorian’s face. “Kadan?”

“Ugh, yes, good evening, Amatus,” Dorian hissed out, “good to see you, if you would kindly get off of me, I have more work to attend to.” Bull was quick to move off of Dorian, grabbing his wrist to help him up, but holding on as Dorian tried to move away. Bull squinted into the darkness. He could see the contrast between Dorian’s hair and skin, but it seemed different somehow.

“Kadan? What’s wrong?”

“Nope, nothing’s wrong, good night!” Dorian tried to jerk away, but the pressure of Bull’s hand on his wrist kept him planted on the battlements. ‘This couldn’t get any worse,’ he thought. Suddenly there were footsteps and a torch behind him. Oh it got worse.

“Bull, what was all the commotion? D-Dorian?” Cullen was standing behind Dorian, wearing only his undershirt and a pair of loose slacks, a guard standing behind him holding the torch.

Wonderful; everyone could now see the bright shade of blue Dorian’s hair had become.

Seconds ticked on, the only sound being the crackling of the fire. Dorian side eyed the Commander and the Guard before turning to Bull, aggravated and exhausted. However, Bull did not have the same look as Dorian. He looked in awe. When no one said anything before what felt like eternity, Dorian cleared his throat, “alright, we are done gawking, yes, thank you. Unhand me, I have some magical theory to work on and magical spells to fix. Thank you and good n-,” Dorian’s sentence was cut off as he was swung around and grabbed by both shoulders by Bull.

“Aw, Kadan. It makes your eyes pop. Have you tried pink?” Bull’s expression exactly matched Cadash’s.

Dorian let out a groan of frustration.

* * *

 

Dorian was rather occupied for the rest of the night, and it was not because of magical study. No, he was dragged to the tavern and then dragged back to Bull’s and his room till sun up.

He stood in the undercroft now with Torrin and Dagna, bags under his eyes.

Almost everyone had wanted to know how to get such a vibrant hair color. Varric wanted to know if he should change the description of the character in his next book to have the same hair color, ‘you know, for reasons,’ with the biggest shit eating grin Dorian had ever seen. He was helpless to stop the requests, and by the inquisitor’s order, he was to refine the magic to be used for everyone to use.

He sighed as the magic finally worked on Torrin and she ran around, sporting her fashionably new blue hair.

‘I am a fashion queen,’ he thought to himself, only a hint of a smile underneath his frustration.

 

**Author's Note:**

> http://danaduchy.tumblr.com/post/118877990159/listening-to-audiobook-read-by-dorians-voice  
> I decided I need to replicate this, so I did.  
> I will resume posting chapters of "What the Qun Took From Us" when I do finish the story, but I'm currently stuck at a small point and I have been flooded with sickness, school, and job searching!


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